The Instructions
by dhbPATHWAY1997
Summary: While cleaning out the new nursery, Ginny discovers something she knows Harry might be interested in - instructions and life advice supposed to be given to him by Sirius, and written by his father.


The Instructions

"Harry?" called a voice from upstairs. Harry couldn't hear though; the kettle was screaming and Harry was rushing to get a potholder so as to pick up the tea and pour it into the cups he and Ginny had received from Ginny's parents as an engagement gift. "Harry?" Ginny called again, once the high-pitched noises had ceased. "HARRY!" she finally yelled.

"What? Uh, yes, what?" he called at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, Harry!" she called, rushing down the stairs as best she could. "Deaf as a door mouse, I'll say!"

"Er…I don't think that's how it goes, actually…" he muttered, not really wanting her to hear him trying to correct her.

"Oh good, you've made tea!" Ginny said happily, her expression instantly transforming. Harry rolled his eyes, pouring the liquid into the two cups. She'd been like this since a few months after they learned that Ginny was pregnant with her and Harry's first child. He didn't really mind, though. Harry and Mr. Weasley had had a talk when they'd found out about women during pregnancy and how horrifying it could be, especially for the husbands. But Mr. Weasley had given him some pointers and told him how best to handle what situations that might pop up. So far, things were going swimmingly, as far as Harry could tell. He might not have been too happy getting up at four in the morning to get her a licorice wand every other Tuesday, but he was learning to get by on less and less sleep.

He sat down in his armchair next to Ginny's after handing to her another cup of tea.

Harry was just about to ask why she'd called down to him (_screamed_ down to him, his mind corrected) when Ginny began talking, seeming to forget why she'd needed him upstairs. He figured it was just for more measurements, or to ask his opinion on whether they needed more green paint for the left wall, and he let her, as the nursery could wait.

"Have you come up with any more ideas for names?" Ginny demanded, leaning forward the best she could manage around her growing abdomen.

"Well, you have all of my suggestions for boy names…" Harry trailed.

"Yes, yes, but what if it's a girl? I'm not naming my daughter James Sirius! Sorry, Harry, I love you, but I love her enough not to call her _that_!"

Harry laughed. The pregnancy was appearing to give Ginny a super sense of humor lately. "No, no, I wouldn't, you know I wouldn't." He sipped his tea. "Well, we've thought Molly–"

"Yes, but I've told you," she interrupted, "that I honestly don't like the name 'Molly' all that much. I would love to honor my mum and everything, but if it _is_ a girl, we'll make it the middle name."

"All right, I can go for that," Harry nodded thoughtfully. "And I've suggested Ginevra…"

"Yes," Ginny interrupted again, "but I've told you this probably literally a million gazillion times: I'M NOT NAMING MY DAUGHTER _GINEVRA._"

"Oh, why not?" Harry whined. He _liked _the name Ginevra. Ginny would only not hear of it because of what a horrible name it had been for her growing up, apparently.

"I've given you my reasoning, _drop_ it, Harry!" He looked down and all around his chair, trying to appear guilty. "What are you looking for, love?" Ginny asked confusedly.

"Well…" Harry began. "I dropped it, and, well… It broke," he sounded sheepish. She started giggling.

"You're cute when you're trying to be nice to me," she laughed.

"Well, I honestly like the name…" Harry murmured, burying his face in his teacup.

She sighed. "I know, but trust me: no girl wants to be named _Ginevra…_ It's a horrible thing, really. Please – no child of ours will be named Ginevra?" she begged.

Harry sighed, too. "Fine…" he agreed grudgingly. An idea struck him. Then another – why hadn't that first idea come to him a long time ago? He almost felt ashamed that he hadn't thought of it sooner…

Ginny noticed the change of expression on his face. "What is it?"

"Oh, Ginny…"

"What?"

"Ginny…" he moaned, feeling like the most horrible person in the history of the world – Wizarding or otherwise.

"What?" she demanded.

"Ginny, I'm the most horrible person in the history of the world, Wizarding or otherwise!" he exclaimed.

"What?" she asked yet again. "Where did this come from?"

He looked into her soft brown eyes in self-ashamed anguish. "Why haven't we thought to name her Lily?"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh…" she said softly. She looked down, not wanting to look into his eyes, her arm coming up to cradle her stomach. "Oh, we _are_ the two most horrible people in the history of the world…"

"Wizarding or otherwise," Harry added.

Then Ginny's eyes got wide and frantic again and her mouth gaped. "Oh, but Harry, we can talk about how horrible we are later, but I _have_ to tell you what I found!" She took a sheet of parchment that had been folded about three times from her pocket. The parchment was somewhat old, and somewhat worn, but Harry could make out the writing easily, so it couldn't have been _too_ old.

"What is it?"

"Instructions!"

"What?" Harry was utterly confused.

"Instructions!" she repeated excitedly. He looked at her blankly. Her face softened. "From your father."

"Oh…" he gasped, all but grabbing the parchment from his wife's hands.

"Careful!" she cautioned.

He opened it up. "Instructions," was written on the top of the page in his father's messy but legible handwriting. Harry sat and stared at the one simple word for a few moments before Ginny said gently, "I'll go. More cleaning to do." She patted his arm and walked back up the stairs, bracing her hand behind her back.

Finally, Harry gathered the nerve to keep going. Unfolding the rest of the parchment, a little letter fell out.

_Harry,_ it read. _In the case that your mother and I aren't around to teach you and help you ourselves, and considering that Sirius will obviously be completely incompetent, I've written you some instructions. These are just a few pointers to get you started with your life. You don't have to take them seriously, but I think they're some pretty good ideas. _

There was a different note below his father's, in a handwriting that Harry recognized as his mother's: _You might do better _not_ to follow his directions, honestly. But just do your best and be happy, darling. Please know that your father and I always loved you and wanted to be right there with you as you became the wonderful person we knew you will be. Love always, Mum and Dad. _

Harry felt himself tearing up. It was like finding the letter when he was seventeen, the one his mother had written to Sirius about Christmas and Dumbledore. This was absolutely priceless: it was further, absolute proof that Lily Evans Potter had existed. Had loved him. _Well, let's see what they had for me to do…_ Harry thought to himself eventually, wiping away the few tears that had strayed down his face.

He carefully removed the letter and put it on the side table along with his tea. He looked at the word again, "Instructions," and suddenly had a worried feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if he'd disappointed them? These Instructions were supposed to help him in life… What if it was too late to make some of these decisions? But, he reassured himself, he had talked to his parents' ghosts before, and they didn't seem too upset with him… So he completely unfolded the parchment.

When you discover your magical talent, make sure to pester Sirius with it constantly. Or whoever your guardian is, considering Sirius might be in jail for something stupid.

Harry laughed. Well, they'd actually been right. Sirius had been in jail for something stupid, but it wasn't his own fault. But he sure had pestered the Dursleys with his magical ability before being gladly shipped off to Hogwarts.

Whenever you start flying lessons or just teaching yourself, always be the fastest. This will _always_ land you a spot on the Quidditch team later. You have shoes to fill, after all! (Just kidding. If you don't like Quidditch, don't bother. It's okay. I'll just haunt you forever if you don't make the House team… Again, kidding.)

Harry was suddenly glad he'd followed, however destined, in his father's footsteps as Gryffindor Seeker. Obviously, he had gotten there of his own talents, but still, he liked to think that he'd gotten a little of James' ability from him. And he really had been the fastest on the team, except maybe Ginny. Maybe.

As SOON as you're on the Hogwarts Express, find two best friends. Two, I tell you. I had Sirius and Remus with me (and Peter, later, but he doesn't count, haha!) for most of my time on the train and then at Hogwarts, and they were the best friends I ever could have had. Don't go making friends with the wrong sort!

Was his father good or what? James must have been really good at Divination, Harry thought, as he'd already guessed correctly about Sirius, his being a Seeker, and his friends! His meeting Hermione and Ron on the Hogwarts Express was definitely one of the best things to ever have happened to him. Though Ron and he might have disliked Hermione a little at first, being the insufferable know-it-all she was, Hermione had never failed them. And about making friends with the wrong sort… Strange, considering those were almost Draco Malfoy's exact words…

Don't get a girlfriend as soon as you walk into the Great Hall. Wait for the one, and never take advantage of ANYTHING. Let everything amaze you about one special girl, and never let her go. Oh, and she'd better be a redhead. It's a Potter tradition. You know…starting with me… 'Kay?

Sure thing, Dad. She's upstairs. Harry grinned. He would have to someday help James Sirius find a suitable redhead for a wife, and that thrilled him. He thought of Ginny again. He knew for sure that Lily and James would have loved her: she was funny, beautiful, kind, skillful, smart, a brilliant Quidditch player, brave, loyal, _and_ a redhead. Could it get better than that? Harry thought no.

You'll have great teachers! 'Course, Slughorn will probably have retired, as well as some of the others. But if McGonagall's still there, show her you're your mother's son. She had to be one of McGonagall's favorites. Watch out for Grubblyplank. She'll bring in some freaky creatures that can behead you, poison you, gut you and kick you in the shins all at once. Stand back from the mysterious crates!

Harry turned in his armchair, laughing. He hadn't had Grubblyplank for very long, but Hagrid sure did have enough freaky and violent creatures for Harry's liking. He'd also never known that his mother was good at Transfiguration. He made note to ask Professor McGonagall about it sometime.

Did Snape have any kids? If so, torture them.

_Harry, don't, your father's just an arse,_ Lily had written underneath number six.

Well, Snape definitely hadn't had any kids – I mean, with _whom_ could he have? – but he did try his best to torture the Slytherins as best as he could! That had to count, right? Harry thought so. He chuckled at both his parents' sense of humor.

Don't get into too much trouble – at school or anywhere – but if you have to go out on a limb and tap into your sense of action. I wish I could hear about all of your adventures. But be safe!

Harry probably laughed the hardest at this one. Harry Potter – being safe! Ha! As if! Well, but he was alive, wasn't he? Even after numerous attempts to change that status, Harry was still alive. And he was pretty safe now, living in his late godfather's house with his pregnant wife? So happy, _and_ safe. Two things Harry never really knew he could ultimately be.

He looked down to number eight. This one was written by his mother.

Harry, if my sister had any children, please be nice to her and her family! Vernon may not be the most wonderful person, and neither is Tuney, but please be pleasant? You probably won't see them often anyway, so just occasionally be polite and courteous to her?

Well… Okay, his parents had been wrong on that one. Yeah, he'd probably not see them often… Almost every day of seventeen years? Yeah, close enough to occasionally. Not. And as if his aunt, uncle and cousin had ever given him a chance to be pleasant to them! _They _ were the ones who were monstrous to him in the first place! He was just returning the favor! Still, Harry felt a little guilty for always being horrible right back to the Dursleys.

When it comes to OWLs, just do your best. They're tedious things, those tests, and you can't let them get to your head. But no worries – I'm sure you'll ace them all and turn out someday to be an International Quidditch player or an Auror, or maybe even the Minister of Magic! The black void of space is the limit!

Harry laughed. He'd barely passed well enough to make it into the Auror department, although, once there, he had quickly become Head Auror in only three years – the quickest in history. Of course, this had given him enough license to promote Ron to second-in-command. But at least he'd made it through school and gotten a more-than-decent job! Happiness and safety was what mattered, remember? But the thought that his dad had thought that he could be the Minister of Magic made Harry happy. Just to know that his father had thought the world of him like that filled him with determination and a sad kind of joy. At least "Auror" had been on the list of future careers his parents expected!

I know you'll get married – you already have my looks and your mother's eyes, you'll be chased by girls everywhere. Just be completely sure that she's the one. No going back. Love her forever, and you _have_ to be able to see an infinite future with her. If you could spend literally eternity with this woman, than she's probably the one. (Remember: REDHEAD!)

Once again, Harry knew that he had aced this instruction. Ginny was perfect, and if Harry had literal eternity to spend with his wife, he knew that he could never be happier.

Don't have dozens of children, but don't have just one, either. We would have given you siblings if we could – you weren't lonely, we hope.

Well, we're working on it, thought Harry, and the happiness that came from thinking about his soon-to-be family filled him up.

His eyes slid down the page to number twelve. He was shocked to see that it was the last one. He was so caught up in reading them and trying to make sure that he'd followed them to notice that there were only twelve important life choices for his parents to recommend.

I don't care what you name a boy, but name a girl Lily. It's such a beautiful name and on your mother's side of the family, it's a tradition that you name your first-born daughter with the first name of your mother and the middle name of your spouse's mother. Do you get it? Sorry if that's confusing…

Aha. His parents had even guessed the name of his daughter purely by chance and tradition! His parents were geniuses! But there was a note at the bottom of the page after number twelve:

_Again, I'm not saying that I would force you to make all of these decisions, and if you find this only fifty years after you were supposed to get it and you've made completely different choices, that's fine. I'm sure your mother and I could never be prouder. Like she said, remember that we loved you infinitely and unconditionally. We'll miss you, but always watch over you. We'll never be far away. Your mother and I gave our lives for the cause of a better life for you and your own Lily Potter. Love forever, Dad. _

Along with tears, there was a smile on Harry Potter's face. Taking the letters and the instructions with him, he went upstairs into his future child's nursery.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you take that box of junk over to Dad later? I think he'd be interested…" she'd spun around only to see the tears and the soft smile on her husband's face. "Harry…" she breathed. Without saying a word in reply, he walked to her and hugged her as tightly as he could with the baby in the way.

"I love you, Ginny. So, so much. And our James Sirius or Lily Molly. Forever."

"I – I love you too, Harry!" she sounded a little startled and concerned, but she hugged him tightly back and smiled.

Later, Harry let her read the Instructions. She laughed at what good fortune-tellers his parents must have been and he shared with her how glad he was to not have let them down. Then they decided to write a set of Instructions for their own child…

_When you discover your magical talents, please don't pester us with them constantly…_

Harry wrote. Ginny laughed but went along with it. Even if they were still around like they hoped to be for their children, they wanted to give them the knowledge that they loved them, and believed the world of them.

Harry had learned a deep and valuable lesson from his parents: A parent's love really is infinite; unconditional. Harry was suddenly ready to be a father.

**A/N:**__**Random idea. Like it? Don't? Tell meh! Thank you! Haha! I just think this is a good thought for kids, especially Harry, since his parents weren't around to tell him how to go about living ;) **

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own ANYTHING – it's all J.K. Rowling's except the plot. **


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